


providenca

by Anuna



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Emotional Recovery, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Lincoln Campbell POV, Lincoln deserved better, M/M, Multi, Smut, and obviously it's a soulmate au, but frankly any character on this show deserved better, compliant with all three seasons, except the end is different, introspection and character study, it's not very May friendly, no jealousy, soulmate fic, three way relationship, threesome smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-22 13:41:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7441369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anuna/pseuds/Anuna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“There's more to being soulmates than being together,” he says. “What matters the most is you,” he carefully points it out. “You know what his death did to you. Now when you have his life back, maybe you can get yours too.”</p>
<p>Or</p>
<p>When Lincoln decides to save Ward from Hive's possession, he saves a lot more than Daisy's soulmate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	providenca

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stargazerdaisy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargazerdaisy/gifts), [PrawnCrackers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrawnCrackers/gifts).



> The idea of this story existed for awhile, but it finally found a shape after the finale aired and Lincoln died on screen. Even though I didn't like him, or rather the way he was used through season three, the way he died; the way he and Grant and even Hive died left me sad, because all three have been creatures that longed for a connection that would finally take away the emptiness, the loneliness and the pain (and yes, Hive was a bad guy, but before he became one, he was a man, and then a victim, and that was never truly addressed, according to the long standing tradition of this show - to gloss over serious and painful issues). 
> 
> So here is the deal. This is a skyeward story, but first and foremost, it's Lincoln's story. If you're here for comparison between the couples, wanting one to come out better and more worthy than the other, this is the wrong place. I tried to give Lincoln a proper voice, allow him to fight through the need that steered him in the direction of addiction and come through as a healthier and happier person. And not just him, but all three of them, Lincoln, Daisy and Grant. 
> 
> Finally, this is a take on the soulmate trope that connects well with my previous soulmate story, and for all purposes you can consider it the same 'verse. What I want to do - if the time will allow me - is write more of this from other two POVs. 
> 
> I worked on this long and hard and hopefully did a good job. Every comment that's constructive and not hateful is going to make me happy. Enjoy the story!

_providenca_ (providence) = a manifestation of divine care and direction

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

There's one thing that Lincoln remembers with complete and absolute clarity and he's pretty certain the quality of this memory will never, ever change.

 

He used to think it's unfair, how his brightest, clearest memory is also his worst one. How the stars fade, blurring with the darkness of the night sky and the silence falls, deaf and mute, and heavy like a curtain. Ever since it happened he was trying desperately to rip it apart and find his way back to some place where he could see the light. He knows, though, that it’s futile.

 

You can have one soulmate in your life and if they die…. that’s the end.

  
  


Daisy knows what that is like. After Coulson comes back from that planet, bringing Jemma and Fitz safely back, Daisy looks at Lincoln with the same emptiness he feels. He knows that she had felt every single minute of it, every painful, choking second of his death, and no matter how she felt about him just a couple of hours before, no matter how much his betrayal hurt, his death hurt her more.

 

People say her soulmate was a bad man, but that's not what hurts so much. He died on a faraway world, without anyone who cared about him. He died without forgiveness or peace. But that's not what hurts her so much either.

 

He thought of her when he died. She knows it. She has _ felt  _ it,  _ seen _ it as if through his eyes, she knows how the faint light faded from his mind, she tasted his last thought and his last breath. They were  _ for her. _

 

And Lincoln knows what that is like.

 

Now she is someone with a blurred mark on their wrist, aching for light, and even as he meets the understanding in her eyes, the raw and intimate knowledge they now share, he isn't happy about this. He could never be, so when she reaches out to kiss him, he accepts. He gives back as good as he gets. He cannot  , will  _ not _ judge her for the frantic need to forget about it, even for a little while . S o he does his best, and when she screams his name to the ceiling and thrashes among crumpled sheets he hopes he gave her a moment of calm, if not exactly happiness or bliss. But then she smiles at him and makes him believe that for a moment she is happy, and then so is he – because she's amazing and she deserves the world and if everything he can give her is torn up parts of his soul, then he will. He doesn't care if he's fooling himself. Who says love can't be torn up and tattered – but still real? Who can be the judge of this?

 

Daisy tells him about Grant **,** while she is wrapped in a sheet with her hair messy and her eyes misty. He knows that no matter how much they claw into each other, seeking oblivion, it will never happen. Both of them will remember how it used to be _before_. The world shared and bathed in warmth of the knowledge that they weren't alone.

 

She understands him when he tries not to look at whiskey bottle in the kitchen and doesn’t judge, doesn’t expect him to magically heal like many people do. That's good. That's liberating, in a way. It gives him room to breathe. Instead she'll kiss him and tell him to close his eyes for a moment. He can get through the next breath, and another one, and then another one. She will cling to him to get through her own heartbeats. They can do this. They're not alone. They don't have to be alone.

 

*

And then everything goes to hell again.

 

*

 

There’s a strange feeling to seeing Grant Ward’s face in  the flesh for the first time. He looks mostly like he does  on in the several photos Daisy still keeps, except something is missing. Because that's not him, Lincoln thinks, moving aside as Lash leaps into fight.

 

Approaching Hive in Ward’s body while he and Lash fight is more difficult than Lincoln has expected, and he expected it wouldn’t be easy. Ultimately Hive needs to be knocked down to administer the serum Fitz and Simmons have prepared, and Lash barely manages to hold Hive down. There's no time to pick the best spot, so Lincoln goes for the exposed neck **:** **.** Ward’s body starts shaking, his skin going pale and muscles rigid and for a moment it definitely doesn’t look good. Lincoln freezes, reaching a point of sheer desperation when the man on the floor starts coughing as if he's about to choke. It goes on and on and on, as both Lincoln and Lash sit and look on. That's the only thing they can do.

 

Lincoln has no idea how long it lasts, but Ward (is it Ward? Did it work? Can anything kill Hive at all?) curls on the floor, shaking. He looks like he's fighting with something, with  _ himself _ even and that goes on too, Lincoln can hear him muttering, pleading, groaning, saying things; things like  _ no _ , and _ Skye _ , and  _ I didn't want to _ . Finally after all fight goes out of him he's left on the floor shivering  violently, as if he's cold. 

 

“ Ward?”

 

The man carefully glances at Lincoln, now bearing more resemblance to what he has seen in photographs. He looks frightened and raw and weak; and when he sees Lash, he tries to back away completely terrified, but it seems he is too weak to move at all.

 

“ Ward?” Lincoln asks again. Several members of the team told him repeatedly that this man is dangerous; and nearly everything Lincoln could easily imagine said about himself. But all he sees now is just a frightened man.

 

“ Who are you?” Ward is trying to shield his eyes, his face, and when he lifts his right hand, Lincoln sees the mark.

 

It's identical to Daisy’s, and it's sharply returning to focus. Once again Lincoln holds his breath.

 

It's going to work.

 

“ My name is Lincoln, but that's not important.” He takes a deep breath and says, “Skye needs your help”.

 

*

 

In the end it’s Coulson who agrees with Lincoln's plan, even though he is obviously angry. Lincoln fails to care in any way and refuses to move from  the infirmary once Simmons and Fitz come in.

 

“ Tell me why I shouldn’t just cut him to pieces,” Simmons says, staring at Ward with cold, hateful expression. To his credit Ward doesn’t react, doesn’t show any fear. Ward in fact looks like someone who doesn’t care about what happens to  _ him _ .

 

“ Because Daisy would feel every bit of it **.** ” Lincoln cuts her with a look and frankly he is at a point past caring. He begged, pleaded, was ready to sacrifice himself as a guinea pig – he is, quite frankly put, desperate.

 

It's a sentiment Ward seems to share. “I don’t care what you do to  _ me _ ,” he says. “Do whatever you want. But only  _ after _ she is safe.”

 

*

 

They put Ward through a series of tests. It takes all night and entire next day and Lincoln doesn’t move far, not at all, even though he’s hungry and tired and in dire need of a bath. It doesn’t matter. The mark on Ward’s hand has come back to life, much like Daisy’s - he's checked - and he knows that this is _ it _ . This is going to work. They’re wasting time on tests because Hive really  _ is _ gone, but Lincoln supposes this is the only thing Simmons can do, to cause Ward some temporary discomfort. Ward lets her.

 

He’s quiet. He  observes , that much Lincoln can see, but he doesn’t ask questions, and he barely meets people’s eyes.

 

He seems contained inside of himself, like someone working hard to make sense of what happened. That's something Lincoln can't even begin to understand or even imagine. Ward seems to come truly alive only at times when they bring him in front of Daisy’s pod, where she’s still in a coma. The only person he sees is Daisy. Lincoln watches him touching the glass, every of his moves guarded, but his eyes betray him. They’re begging to be allowed to touch her.

 

*

 

“ I can’t just let you in there **,** ” Coulson says the next day. Ward reminds Lincoln of a wilting plant by then. The way he looks at Coulson is more desperate than angry. “I imagine you understand why.”

 

“ I wouldn’t trust myself either,” Ward says, and that’s the longest string of words Lincoln has heard him say by now.

 

“ That’s a good point, but that’s not it **.** ” Coulson’s mouth is a thin line as he stares at Ward. Ward keeps looking at his hands. “I killed you. I shouldn’t have.”

 

That’s when Ward looks up at his former commanding officer.

 

“ You’d avoid this,” he says with a vague gesture. “You would have avoided all of this.” His words just  _ are _ ; there’s no sarcasm or anger or irony in them.  H e only sounds tired and a little dejected, like he doesn’t matter at all, and Lincoln feels the familiarity of that. It makes him feel sad.

 

“ I would,” Coulson says. “Too many people have paid the price for what I did.”

 

“ But you’re going to make an exception for Skye.”

 

Lincoln agrees with the slight sarcastic bite of that sentence.

 

“ Her name is now Daisy,” Coulson says. “And you would too.”

 

Ward keeps his eyes leveled at the man who choked him to death. Lincoln thinks his blood would be boiling by then. He might be getting angry over this as it  is already, but he tells himself to stay quiet. Ward doesn’t look hateful at all.  

 

“ What worries me is what you remember from -” Coulson pauses. That’s when Ward looks away, and for a moment he doesn’t even try to mask the discomfort that the topic brings in him.

 

“ Most of it,” Ward says briefly, loooking at the wall. Then he faces Coulson again. “She felt she should have fixed all of it.”

 

“ All of… what?” Coulson asks. Lincoln realizes that he has moved only when he reaches middle of the room.

 

“ Me,” Ward says. “And everyone else. All the memories Hive remembered. It...  H e thought it wouldn't matter. The soulmate bond. But it did and it messed up how much he could control her and... what it would do to her when you freed her.”

 

Lincoln takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. He tries not to think about what this means, but he's fairly certain that he knows. At first Hive had complete control. But then the balance shifted, maybe because the host's body was still reacting to her, maybe because Skye could always affect  _ Ward _ . Maybe some small and distant part of him, or rather any of them  _ wanted _ to be affected. In any case **,** the moment Lash managed to knock out Hive, Grant was free as well, and so was she, her bloodstream pumped with parasites that left her wide open to the connection – any connection.

 

Lincoln guessed that everything traumatic that Hive dug out of Grant's mind poured into her, until her mind could only shut down.

 

He was right from the start. Daisy cannot survive this without the soul bond that she and Grant share. Lincoln stands up from his spot next to Coulson and looks Ward straight in the eye.

 

“ Can you please help her?” he asks.

 

*

 

They let Ward go inside after that conversation.

 

Lincoln tells himself that this is the point he should leave. He stays a little bit longer, though.

 

Simmons checks Daisy’s vitals and skips the following dose of a sedative. Coulson himself brings in a chair. And then Ward walks in, careful, like someone who barely dares coming near her unmoving form.

  
  


Her hair has grown a bit, Lincoln notes. And she is still so pale, but her soul mark is so vivid on her arm.

 

Ward sits next to her like an old man, like someone tired of life and himself and everything he has been through, but for her he is willing to try again. There’s a pang of jealousy when Lincoln sees this other man wrapping his fingers around Daisy’s (because it’s _Daisy_ , but also because he can imagine what _this_ would be like and he will never have this again).

 

But he knows this: Ward loves her enough to push himself to the limit. To do whatever it takes.

 

And Lincoln is ready to do the same.

 

*

 

“ So it’s not like Prince Charming kissing the Snow White,” Fitz remarks. It’s been twenty hours and Daisy hasn’t moved. Ward didn’t move either - well technically he did, he walked around the pod and used the toilet, but other than that he’s been a permanent fixture in that tiny room.

 

“ Sleeping Beauty,” Simmons says.

 

Lincoln clenches his jaw, tells himself to ignore it, tells himself that they probably have a reason to feel the way they feel - but still he doesn’t have to agree, approve or like it. And he doesn’t.

 

And it’s not just Daisy. He keeps looking at the man sitting next to her bed and the sight of him only makes him think that nothing here is right. Someone did bring him a meal earlier, but nobody has been inside that room. Not really. They expect the biology to do its magical thing - and then what? Lock him up again? Skye hasn’t told him much but she had mentioned the vault, and Lincoln has been down there. He knows what it looks like. He has seen how SHIELD works, he has read between the lines, he has pushed things through last couple of days, and it's painfully clear that Coulson (which means: SHIELD) doesn't care equally for all of his people.

 

So he has a pretty good idea of what Ward's time in Vault D was like.

 

Lincoln has never mastered the use of the coffee machine. One old lady in Afterlife taught him how to make turkish coffee and that’s how he has been making it for years now. Predictably, Fitz reacts when he sees Lincoln pouring a second cup.

 

“ Where are you going?” he asks with hefty dose of suspicion in his voice.

 

“ To talk,” Lincoln says, making an effort to keep his voice even.

 

“ To talk to whom?” Fitz insists and Lincoln can see the narrowed eyes and the way scientist is looking at him. As if Lincoln should feel bad about himself.

 

Never in a million years, he thinks.

 

“ You know whom,” he says and exits, uninterested in Fitz's opinion and quite angry over everything.

 

Because if he has understood the development of events, Hive would never set foot on Earth if Ward didn't end up on that planet, and Ward would never end up there if he wasn't driven to revenge... and he wouldn't be driven into revenge if Coulson wasn't running his  own private Gitmo in the basement.

Lincoln walks quickly, before he changes his mind and turns around. He is standing in front of the glass walls in matter of minutes. There he has to face the fact that everything is just as it was when he last left. Ward doesn’t look up, as he keeps staring at some spot near Daisy’s free arm, but Lincoln is certain that his presence has been noted. Still he knocks , t hat's only polite. Then he pushes the door open a little bit, raising both coffee mugs so that Ward can clearly see them.

 

“ Can I come in?”

 

For the  briefest second he thinks he sees relief on Ward’s face.

 

*

 

Twelve hours later Daisy wakes up.

 

*

 

The fact that Ward is back is not making things any easier.

 

“ I can't just do that,” Daisy says. It's sheer relief to see her awake, to see her able to speak and look at him, but seeing her miserable doesn't make Lincoln happy.

 

“ He's your soulmate,” Lincoln says calmly. She's sitting on her messed up bed, rocking slightly back and forth.

 

“ So what?” Daisy says, giving him an incredulous look and Lincoln needs to take a pause.

 

“ So everything,” he says, because,  _ god damn _ . He can't even begin to explain this. But the thing is, she knows – he knows that she knows, heck they have talked about this so many times. She has told him so many times over she wished she could have had another chance, to give him another chance to explain, or at least try.

 

She is simply choosing to ignore stuff now when that chance is here.

 

“ That... that doesn't change what he has done,” Daisy insists and Lincoln pinches his nose.

 

“ It can change how you  _ feel _ about it,” he says.

 

“ How I feel about it doesn't change the  _ reality _ ,” she shoots back and Lincoln sighs. He's seen this, the walls she puts up so quickly when she finds herself in a position to be judged, and right now the entire team is looking at her extra closely.

 

“ Whose reality, Daisy? The people who expected you to turn your back on a  _ soulmate _ ? Daisy, you didn't just shut him out of your life **,** you actively tried to  _ end his _ . All for their approval. And when he was finally dead, how did that make you feel?”

 

Normally she would cut him off, but she doesn't. Everything is too raw and maybe he is pushing it too far, but he still takes her hand and gives her a serious look. “A chance like this doesn't happen twice... or at all. So make the most out of it,” he says.

 

“ Are you telling me to go back to him?” she sounds a bit hysterical.

 

“ There's more to being soulmates than being together,” he says. “What matters the most is you,” he carefully points it out. “You know what his death did to you. Now when you have his life back, maybe you can get yours too.” 

  
  


*

 

He's ready to threaten anyone who thinks they're allowed to intrude into what she does now that Ward is back – but it seems that someone beat him to it. He suspects it **’** s Coulson, who seems to have picked up a conscience somewhere along the way. Now, the base is quiet and everyone is going about their business and Lincoln is mostly keeping to himself, training on his own in early mornings and spending the rest of the day in the lab, assisting Fitz and Simmons on various projects.

 

Days pass and he's trying not to think about it – but when she shows up one day for lunch, looking calm and better, and smiles, really and actually  _ smiles _ , all his worries seem to go away.

 

*

 

Ward requests to help them, and this time Coulson accepts. It doesn't go over well with some members of the team. Accusations fly at first, saying even that Coulson is playing favorites, but he stays true to his word and offers Ward a chance to help. Everything Ward does is strictly determined by the set of conditions he and Coulson agreed to – Ward provides intel, risk assessment and strategies best suited to defeat various remaining Hydra branches.

 

He doesn't seem to seek out any company outside the missions. Sometimes he and Daisy quietly talk and what used to be tension between them, deeply set in his shoulders and the way she held herself away, seems to  be gone. Some people, like Simmons, are not bothering to hide their judgment, but it seems Daisy has reached a point past that.

 

Lincoln doesn't want to just stand aside. He misses Daisy, in a way, not because she's constantly with Ward – because she's not – but because she's mostly keeping to herself.

 

So he reaches out to the other logical choice.

 

One morning he sets a coffee mug in front of Ward and sits across him with a shrug. “If you don't mind,” Lincoln says.

 

“ I don't,” Ward answers.

 

That's how they begin having coffee together, regardless if Daisy is there or not, regardless of who is passing them by or who is judging.

 

Soon there is a mission where Daisy insists to bring Ward with. It goes mostly well, except at the point where they find themselves outgunned and Ward displays a worrying propensity for self sacrifice.

 

Joey and Lincoln bring him in on a stretcher. Daisy is walking beside, worried. When Simmons doesn't move from her spot in the back end of the infirmary **,** Lincoln throws away his mission gear and changes into scrubs as quickly as he can.

 

Simmons can go and do whatever she wants. He doesn't care.

 

*

 

The sweat is dripping down his face by the sixth or seventh time he hits the mat. Above him, May doesn't look like she even broke a sweat. This whole thing is frustrating as hell – he needs to stay in shape, needs to keep practicing, and his usual sparring partner is still not available.

 

He doesn't want to impose himself on  D aisy in any way. Aside from going on missions **,** she's content to rest, train on her own, busy her mind with security protocols and similar things. He lets her seek him out on her own terms. At first it **’** s hard, until at one point – well this point precisely – he realizes he's preoccupied with things other than her mental well being.

 

“ Focus,” May says. He frowns and reminds himself to keep a hold on his anger. This is frustrating. She is being unfair but he doesn't dare telling her. Focus on what? Whatever he tries, it ends up exactly the same way, and if she is trying to teach him a lesson, he's way past ready for her to get to her punchline.

 

His wrist still hurts from the day before and come to think of it, he should let Simmons take a look at it. Maybe he should be concerned about the fact that part of him is ignoring the issue, in typical Daisy – style. He gets up and stubbornly faces May. She is stone faced against his determination, but his next two attempts end just like all previous ones. He lands on his back and it hurts – hurts physically, emotionally, intellectually. He is thrown back at a time when everything he tried wasn't enough. He doesn't want to fall down that hole and emerge on the bottom of a glass. Never again.

 

He doesn't care what she's trying to show him anymore. He gets up and attacks, gleeful about the fact that May doesn't suspect anything. Her scream of pain when he lets his anger and his electricity smash into her is immensely satisfying.

 

“ That's it,” she says when she gets off the floor. “I'm not going to bother training you. You're unable to control yourself.”

 

“ _ What _ ? Wait, that was supposed to be training-?” he asks. She barely dignifies him a look. “You can't call that training if you don't tell me what I am doing wrong so I could fix it!”

 

She is about to walk out when someone else speaks.

 

“ He's right, you know.”

 

It's Ward. May barely spares him a glance. Lincoln feels as if all  the air in the room is charged, almost as if he personally did it. If anything is clear **,** it is that  they both hate each other. “Maybe you should have told him why you agreed to train him in the first place,” Ward says.

 

“ That's none of your goddamn business,” May spits out. For someone who just belittled his self control, Lincoln thinks she is on the very end of her own.

 

“ Instead of punishing him for bringing me here, come at me,” Ward says.

 

Lincoln swallows. That sounds a bit like suicide wish on Ward's part. He stands there completely unafraid, though.

 

“ You have no place here,” May hisses. “I tolerate your presence only because of Daisy -”

 

“That’s really  priceless,” Ward says. “To be so concerned of her well being after what you put her through last year. Or what you just did to him.”

 

It looks like she's about to say something in return. Lincoln wonders if he should interfere, trying not to think about implications of Ward's words. He looks between the two, between Ward's  _ I – dare – you _ face and May's deepening scowl. He thinks of Daisy still in that bed, in self inflicted coma after her mind couldn't handle the pain. He remembers some bits Daisy mentioned in passing.  _ May taught me to lock everything down... May helped me to focus on my anger... May said I don't owe him anything _ .

 

Lincoln doesn't really debate what he should do. His anger is so clear in his mind. He's not even aware that he's choosing a side.

 

“ I don't want you to train me,” Lincoln says to May.

 

May doesn't say anything. She gives him an ugly look and leaves.

 

Lincoln is fuming. He goes for his bag. He wants to punch something. No, not something, he wants to go after May, and he would like to fry everything that runs on electricity in this goddamn base; Coulson's massage chair in particular.

 

“ Campbell,” Ward says from behind him. Lincoln almost doesn't register. “That's not gonna help,” he says.

 

Lincoln tenses. Rationally, he knows Ward is right, but everything else in him is just screaming.

 

“ I think I hate them,” he says, not clearing up whom, but he feels Ward might have a pretty good idea whom he is talking about.

 

“ I understand,” he says. “But that's how you waste your energy.” It sounds a lot like  _ been there, done that. _

 

_ Ended up dead, by the way.  _

 

Lincoln puts his towel and water bottle in his bag and zips it up with a sense of finality. He will have to be extra careful on those missions until Daisy can help him improve again.

 

“ I can help you,” Ward says. Lincoln looks up from his belongings to the man standing next to him. The hard expression has left his face. It's now tentative and serious, with the undertone of something almost soft in him. It reminds him of Daisy's expression when she used to talk about him without even being aware of it.

 

Daisy could never love someone without compassion, he thinks. And he thinks how he has no reason to doubt Ward yet. How giving him a chance cannot hurt more than denying it.

 

“ You can train me?” Lincoln asks.

 

Ward gives him a half smile that doesn't really reach his eyes. It's there nevertheless. “Who do you think trained Daisy?”

 

*

 

“ The problem is that you can't stop telegraphing your moves,” Grant explains. “You do that less when you're relaxed, but the more tired you get, the more you telegraph.”

 

Lincoln sits up on the mat. Grant tosses him one water bottle and uncaps another himself. “Do you understand the problem?”

 

“ When I'm not on top of my game, the opponent can predict my moves,” Lincoln says. “It's why May was able to beat me.”

 

“ Yes,” Ward says, sitting down next to him. “And she's fast. Very fast.”

 

“ It's hard to defeat someone who's that fast,” Lincoln says.

 

“ Every opponent has a weakness,” Ward says. “When you end up in hand to hand combat, you have to make very quick judgments. Judging an opponent correctly is more important than how strong you are. It comes down to strategy – how do you defeat someone who's faster than you? You can't be quicker.”

 

Lincoln stares at a nondescript spot far in front of him. May is the worst opponent he can possibly imagine. She's smart, skillful **,** and reads him correctly.

 

“ Is there something that's in your favor? Anything?” Ward asks.

 

“ I'm bigger. Heavier,” Lincoln says.

 

“ So what do you have to do?” Ward prods patiently.

 

Lincoln grins. “Practice some more.”

  
  
  
  


After two weeks Lincoln gets used to a different regime of training and exercise. Training with someone who matches your height and weight is a completely different experience. Ward is infinitely stricter than Daisy, which is why Lincoln's muscles protest at first. Soon he discovers that Ward is also more patient, detail oriented **,** and infinitely committed. It's like he's trying to find a method that will get best results out of Lincoln. He has a calm and surprisingly reassuring way about teaching these things, and soon Lincoln finds unexpected confidence that doesn't rely on electricity. It's a relief because he finds punching easier to control than electroshocking people. 

 

Sooner than he thinks he isn't exclusively occupied with Daisy and her well being- he starts looking forward to his training sessions, twice a day, more than he expects. And he finds it's nice to sit with Grant at any point of the day, having coffee, or watching TV or simply doing nothing.

 

*

 

He can tell when Daisy notices it. It's an abrupt change in her awareness, when she's wrapped up inside of her inner world, and then finding a way out of herself, where both he and Grant leave her most of the time in one moment; to sudden waking up to find two of them having already formed a sort of alliance.

 

Lincoln thinks that it's relief he sees on her face when she walks into they gym and finds them at the boxing bag – Lincoln with his arms wrapped and Grant holding the bag and giving instructions. He thinks he can see the longing, and surely, it's longing for her soulmate, and that's good, that's healthy for her, to let herself feel that.

 

There's relief and something else as well, too complex to understand, but it tugs at his heart when Lincoln sees it on her face. It affects him even more when he observes Ward's reaction, his expression going from hopeful to sorrowful and sad, until the regret is carefully covered and molded back into neutrality. Daisy still looks at him. Denying the truth in front of your soulmate is in vain. Grant lowers his eyes and Daisy just looks **,** echoing the regret seen on his face.

 

Lincoln wants to fix them. For a number of days **,** he feels like he's orbiting two perfectly miserable planets. The morning when he finds them in the dining room sitting opposite each other looking content means relief, even though it means they've reconnected, even though this means Daisy doesn't need him now.

 

He intends to go and find another place to eat, but then both Daisy and Grant notice him.

 

“ Hey,” Grant says, and it's one of the rare times that Lincoln has seen him without tension, without the edge that adds to him darkness he always seems to carry around. “Come join us?”

 

“ Yeah,” Daisy says and she smiles, and Lincoln tells himself that everything but the fact that she's smiling again is not important. Even if he's going to feel slightly more lonely now.

 

*

 

The knock on his door is sharp and loud, and he doesn't expect to find Daisy standing there when he opens.

 

He doesn’t quite catch her explanation to why she's there. He's pretty certain she needs to tell him something, but as soon the door closes she is pulling his face to hers and kissing him, and he realizes what she had said.

 

That she wants  _ him. _

 

He doesn't know what to do with that. The way she kisses him is urgent, but there is no desperation that used to be there, especially in their beginning. He intends to stop, he _really_ wants to, because that is the only thing that would be fair to Grant and her. But he can't, because she looks at him like she _wants_ him, because it makes him feel like he's waking up from a long, cold sleep because she looks _happy_.

 

And the thing is, he needs this, and he needs her, and he's been feeling lonely without this. When she lifts his shirt he lets her and when she pushes him down to bed **,** he goes. He feels like he doesn't even have time to breathe as she undresses them both. It's fast, intense, it feels like having sex for the first time as she rides him. After, she's looking at him with this content expression and a smile on her face and he doesn't quite understand.

 

“ I thought you and Ward -” it's a bit too embarrassing to continue and ask if they slept together and reconnected, but they probably did, because that’s the easiest, most natural way about it. She's laid beneath him, naked and unabashedly happy and the grin she gives him is almost dirty.

 

“ We did,” she says. Her expression tickles his curiosity because he’s never truly seen the dirty - playful side of her. “And it was.... I thought it would tie me down to him and make me forget about everything that happened and that I would want the bond so much **,** I'd let go of everything else,” She pauses, giving him a thoughtful look, as if she's searching for something on his face. “But it wasn't like that.”

 

Lincoln looks at her thoughtfully in turn, playing with the messy strands of her hair. “It … helped me let go of the pain,” she says seriously. “And that means I can do this,” she moves just enough to kiss him on the lips. “And I can want this,” she adds, sliding lower and spreading her legs and she's so unapologetic and free, that it makes him dizzy. He doesn't even think about what he's doing, he knows he's sliding into her again and she closes her eyes and rolls her hips and whispers  _ yes  _ against his mouth. 

 

She  _ wants  _ him. He closes his eyes and obeys her pleas for more as that thought sears itself into his mind.

 

*

 

Part of him expects Grant to beat him up. It's a childish thought and it doesn't happen, and even when Daisy holds his hand, Grant doesn't seem surprised, or worried or jealous. If anything Daisy joins their training and sparring sessions pretty often and that's way more fun than him and Grant doing it alone. Sometimes she comes to Lincoln's room straight after he's worked out so hard **,** his shirt is clinging to his back. She doesn't let him even change or shower when she pushes him against the door and lowers his pants and underwear enough to take him into her mouth.

 

He loves when she does that. He falls apart when she does it, absolutely and completely; and he's pretty sure that she goes straight to Grant after, to do the same to him, and that makes the whole thing even better.

  
  


*

 

Months pass. Lincoln fucks Daisy and Grant fucks Daisy and everyone on the base expects it to turn into a disaster, only it doesn't. The only disasters they sometimes face are missions where someone gets hurt. Lincoln has learned that it's an inevitable thing.

 

“ You’re pain in the ass, has anyone ever told you that?” Grant says even as he sits on the cot that Lincoln indicates.

 

“ Several people, yourself included,” Lincoln answers, steadily observing the way Grant moves. He isn’t visibly hurt but he is definitely in pain, and at this point Lincoln knows him well enough to know he won’t be a good patient and complain about what bothers him. “Kind of ironic, isn’t it?” he says as he glances at Daisy. Grant opens his mouth to say something, but Daisy raises a finger.

 

“ Hush. He’s right. If I ever met pain in the ass, it’s you.”

 

“ When was I pain in the ass?” Grant blinks innocently. Lincoln suppresses a grin.

 

“ Oh my god. You did  _ not _ just ask me that -”

 

“ Take your shirt off,” Lincoln interjects and Grant hesitates for the briefest moment. Then he lets out an overly dramatic groan.

 

“ Worse than Simmons,” he mutters.

 

“ I am gonna go out now,” Daisy says. She walks away with a slight bounce in her step and that’s something that makes Lincoln feel content. She likes that he and Grant are on good terms, that all of them can just talk or pretend to be rude to one another. He focuses on Grant then, who removes his shirt much slower than he normally would after sparring, and while his front looks more or less okay, his back makes Lincoln wince.

 

“ Okay, that does  _ not _ look good,” he says and motions for Grant to lay down. “I need to see that up close.”

 

“ It’s just a bruise,” Grant shrugs, but obeys and lays down on his stomach.

 

“ I’ll be the judge of that,” Lincoln says, carefully probing the bruised area with his fingers. “Tell me if any of this hurts.”

 

Grant shifts. “All of it hurts,” he says. “But it’s bearable.”

 

“ Okay,” Lincoln pauses. “On a scale of one to ten, tell me if anything fits number six, or more.”

 

“ Low standard,” Ward says. “There. That spot.”

 

Lincoln pauses near his shoulder blade. He probes few more times and even though Grant is reluctant to say anything, the way he reacts to touch is telling. At the same time Lincoln can see old, faded scars, some thin and barely existing, some a pretty blatant witnesses of how many times this man got injured ( _ hurt _ ). Some of the pain he bears is probably chronic by now, and the fact that he even reacts to this is both telling and worrying.

 

Maybe there’s a limit up to which any of us can handle pain.

 

Maybe it’s highest time that someone takes care of Grant.

 

“ That’s because you tend to neglect yourself. How did this happen?”

 

Grant sighs and shifts, trying to find a more comfortable position with his face against his hands. The way he shifts betrays yet more discomfort, possibly in his shoulders.

 

“ A guy had something like a baseball bat,” he says.

 

“ Does it hurt when you breathe?”

 

“ My ribs are fine,” Grant says.

 

Lincoln sighs and shakes his head. He allows himself an indulgent smile, deciding that this stubbornness is the same thing Daisy so often displays.

 

“ Good, then. I won’t  try to make you take pain medication because you probably won’t do it, so we’ll try something else.”

 

“ Fantastic,” Grant says. Lincoln can practically hear the eyeroll in his voice. He chuckles, shrugs off the white mantle , which leaves him in sleeveless scrubs that allow easy movement. He finds the bottle of rub oil.

 

“ You should look forward to this,” Lincoln says, pouring the rub oil into his hand. “Now relax and enjoy yourself.”

 

Grant says something unintelligible, but as soon as Lincoln starts the backrub, he stills and quiets. All of his back is tense, every single muscle in what must be a state of perpetual tension which lasts for who knows how long now. Lincoln works slowly, testing how hard he can press and looking for knots and  hidden pain. Slowly he feels Grant begin to relax, giving in and allowing himself small sounds and grunts and sharp little breaths when something really hurts. There’s an area near his right shoulder with a scar that had to be a gunshot wound that seems to hurt the most, and Lincoln uses the tiniest bit of electricity there, just a little bit of power surge to motivate the tissue into recovery.

 

“ What was  _ that _ ?” Grant asks even though he knows and obviously doesn’t mind.

 

“ It should help with the -” Lincoln begins, only then he feels someone else’s presence and looks up.

 

It’s Daisy, standing at the doorway and ….  _ staring _ at them.

 

Grant looks up as well. The atmosphere sharply turns from quiet and relaxed to highly charged.

 

“ Um,” she says. “I wanted to see if you were… done,” she mutters, her eyes still fixed on Grant’s half naked form and Lincoln’s arms on him. Her expression is still raw, still unmasked. Lincoln tells himself that he’s seeing this wrong, reading it wrong, that the lust in her eyes must be for Ward, even as her eyes roam his bared arms.

 

“ We were just -” he starts and stops as she averts her eyes. There’s conflict on her face and red flush climbing up her neck as Grant sits up. She looks at him as if she’s looking for help.

 

“ Maybe that’s something you should tell him,” Grant says in a manner of replying.

 

“ Tell me what?” Lincoln asks. Daisy flushes even more. Her breathing rate increases and she nervously licks her lips, seemingly at war with herself.

 

“ I want you both,” she says, her eyes now dark and hot. “I tried to choose and I just…. can’t,” she’s saying, her eyes shifting from one to the other, emotions passing over her face even as she’s trying to keep them under wraps. “Which is probably selfish on my part but I want you both with me… at the same time,” she manages before she practically runs away.

 

Grant sits up slowly. Lincoln’s throat feels tight and dry and there’s an electricity - like jolt when Grant’s thigh brushes against his own as the other man starts to move to stand up. Lincoln glances at him, not sure what to say when the look on Grant’s face stops him in his tracks.

 

He can see longing there, not just for Daisy but for  _ connection _ .

 

“ I am okay with it,” Grant says before he pulls his shirt on. It sounds like something he has already thought over. His eyes linger on Lincoln’s for a moment longer before he leaves - and just when he stands up fully, he places his hand briefly on Lincoln’s shoulder. The familiar reassurance he knows from their sparring fights is there and Lincoln closes his eyes, thinking for the first time that things just might work out for all of them.

  
  


*

 

“ Why would you do this?” Lincoln asks as he unwraps his fists, his muscles sore from the strain of the training. Grant regards him in that level headed, practical way of his. The way everything about Ward seems to have a place and fit somewhere is possibly Lincoln’s favorite thing about him. Other people described him often as a mess, but Lincoln disagrees. Grant Ward doesn’t like mess.

 

“ It’s not just Daisy’s life you saved,” Grant says, rubbing his knuckles briefly as he unwraps them. Lincoln grins.

 

“ So, you’re thankful? You want to do this because you’re thankful?”

 

“ It’s not just that,” Ward says and his hands pause. “It’s… I had my life saved before,” he says and Lincoln notices how his thumb brushes the inner side of his wrist. He never asked about it, but he knows what the scar there means. “Anyone can save a life. Question is… how. And what for. And you and Daisy…”

 

Lincoln isn’t sure what happens first - if Grant pauses, choking on his explanation, or if he stops when he feels Lincoln’s hand on his. Connection, Lincoln thinks. Grant’s face is filled with regret and sorrow and tentative, heartbreaking hope.

 

“ Second chances are hard to come by,” Ward says.

 

“ I know.”

 

And that’s the truth.

 

“ Daisy wants me... but of course she wants me,” he looks at his soul mark on his wrist. Lincoln can feel something inside of his chest break.

 

And it just happens. Grant leans close and Lincoln even licks his lips, telling himself that he might just find out what is it that Daisy likes about Grant so much. But in the next moment the thought is forgotten. The kiss is gentle, surprisingly so, softer than any kiss that Daisy ever gave him. Lincoln knows he should be having thoughts about that, that this detail should mean something but right now he can’t. He’s too busy giving in to the press of lips against his, parting his mouth just a little bit and feeling the warmth in response.

 

It’s exciting, because they’re not soulmates and they’re not bonding over the loss of one, it’s not only about that. The kiss turns from soft to deep, the intense kind of hunger that makes Lincoln’s breath short. There is a hand against Lincoln’s cheek as Grant makes the kiss even deeper. Lincoln groans, moving closer and responding in kind to kisses that are stealing his breath. It’s so exciting, because this man makes him feel things apart from crippling need that wants to be filled, things like laughter and pride and contentment. Confidence in something as simple as boxing technique. And it’s different, the good kind of different and Lincoln realizes he wants more of that.

 

_ Wants _ . Just like that,  _ he’s free to want _ .

 

They part, breathing hard. Grant leans his forehead against Lincoln’s, a surprisingly tender gesture. Lincoln smiles.

 

“ That wasn’t half bad,” he says.

 

“ Told you so,” Grant replies.

 

*

 

After that, Lincoln is just a little bit nervous.

 

Daisy eyes them suspiciously as they both sit at her table in cafeteria.

 

“ We have a suggestion,” Lincoln tells her. She looks slightly embarrassed as she shifts in her chair and tires not to telegraph the mess of emotions she probably feels. (It’s useless with Grant anyway, though).

 

“ I have a safe house,” Grant starts . “Which is more like a yacht anyway.”

 

“ What do you mean, more like a yacht?” Daisy asks.

 

“ It’s a yacht.” he says. “It’s… perfect if you want to be alone.”

 

Daisy looks at Lincoln and then at Grant, not sure what he is suggesting, which is probably why he opts for blunt.

 

“ It has more than enough room for three of us,” he says.

 

Daisy seems stunned. “Um. Ward. Are you saying -?” Then she looks at Lincoln, who, without much thought covers Grant’s hand with his. Daisy isn’t even trying not to look shocked.

 

“ I’m okay with it,” Lincoln says.

 

To Daisy’s obvious surprise, Ward holds Lincoln’s hand for a little while, too long for it to be a coincidence or just a purely platonic hand hold. Stunned expression changes into curiosity on Daisy’s face. “Okay.  _ What _ happened there?”

 

“ We talked a bit,” Lincoln says. 

 

Daisy snorts.   “ That had to be helluva conversation.”

 

“ And decided it would be utterly unfair to deny you something you want so much -”

 

“ And that’s both of us, right?”

 

“ Are you two… serious?”

 

Grant glances at Lincoln. His grin is slow and well stretched across his face.“If you can get us  a couple of days off and pack, we can go in half an hour.”

 

“ Yep,” Lincoln affirms. “We’ve packed already.”

  
  


*

 

Daisy drops her bag on the deck and looks around with obvious delight on her face. Her clothes are crumpled and her hair is a mess - the filight and then the drive here were long and they all could use some rest before anything else.

 

There seems to be one thing on Daisy’s mind when she turns around to face them.

 

“ I need to get a nap,” she says.

 

“ There’s a bedroom on this deck,” Ward says.

 

“ Just one?” she asks teasingly.

 

“ There are several,” he indulges her with an amused smile on his face.

 

“ I hoped there’d be just one,” she says, now giving Lincoln the same tempting look.

 

“ Well, there’s one that’s particularly nice,” Ward explains. “I’ll let you discover which one.”

 

She smiles and licks her lips,  r eaches out for Grant’s hand and then grabs Lincoln’s.

 

“ I kinda hoped we’d discover it together,” she says, drawing them both close as if to test this. Lincoln lets her bring him together with two of them. The kiss she gives Ward looks completely dirty, but she cuts it short in order not to let Lincoln feel  deprived . She kisses him in the same sinful manner, but what surprises him is when Grant does the same. Lincoln gives back as good as he gets.

 

“ Whoa, you two,” Daisy says. She looks positively turned on. “If you keep on doing that I won’t be able to sleep  _ at all _ .”

 

Grant smirks and kisses the top of her head. “Yeah, we’ll head out and get some groceries because the whole boat is empty,” he says. “You might want to get that beauty sleep, though. Who says you’ll be getting any later?”

 

*

 

They’re gone for couple of hours. They get the things they need and stop by a restaurant overlooking the sea. The area is unexpectedly pretty and both men spend some time in silence, observing the perfect blue of Adriatic and enjoying the warmth of early summer. Grant tells Lincoln about the area, and it seems he is well familiar with it. Later, they walk along the shore line and Lincoln looks at the natural rocky beach, several people sitting on the towels and daring the sea that’s still a little bit chilly to bathe in. There are pine trees everywhere, casting the shadow to the ground. The air has a particular scent, something that's probably a combination of the sun and the sea and the trees.

 

Daisy is on the main deck when they return, sitting on the sofa in the shade and observing the water. Instead of the jeans she wore before, Lincoln can see the promising expanse of her bare legs and straps of her bathing suit hidden by some sort of wrapped- around – her dress. He puts down the box of groceries and pauses as she stands up and smiles at them.

 

“ Well. I thought you two have forgotten all about me,” she says. There's a promise in the way her hips sway as she stars to walk away from them. “I've found the bedroom,” she says. “Don't you two want to see it?”

 

It's a bit ridiculous how they both follow her and how the relaxed atmosphere changes once they all pass that door. Lincoln barely has the time to appreciate the room. There's no base, no team, no SHIELD here; nobody to judge  any  of them. Daisy stands by the foot of the bed, her hair curling at the ends as she looks at both of them as if they're good enough to eat. Her grin is nervous and Lincoln shares the sentiment. A single glance at Grant tells him he's not feeling any differently either.

 

“ Come here, both of you,” she says. “I can't wait any longer.”

 

They meet in the middle of the room with Daisy between them. The look on her face is tentative, hopeful and almost afraid.

 

“ Don't worry,” Grant says as he strokes her cheek. “We've got you. Right?” he looks at Lincoln, and Lincoln smiles. This is about her, he thinks. This is for her, to make her feel good. Her hand settles in the center of his chest and his heart is beating so hard. She kisses him and then turns to kiss Grant, her other hand on Grant's neck, then turns back to him and Lincoln parts his lips for her. It goes on for couple of minutes and she's trying so hard to be fair to them both, give them equal amounts of her appreciation until all of them are panting and needing more. He and Grant both are uselessly trying to figure out her dress until she unties a knot behind her neck and the fabric slides to the floor. She has a bathing suit on.  His mouth goes dry and he just needs to  _ touch  _ her. So he does.

 

They kiss until he remembers not to be selfish and that there is plenty of skin for him to kiss. She sounds completely breathless as Grant kisses her mouth and Lincoln unties the straps behind her back. He kneels in front of her to pull a breast in his mouth and wraps his arms around her. She's leaning heavily onto him, his and Grant's name s coming from her lips like pleas. “Bed,” she says and Lincoln picks her up easily. She grins breathlessly from the center spot on the sheets where he placed her. “You're both seriously overdressed,” she says. Grant tosses his clothes away unceremoniously, and crawls over her only in his boxers. Lincoln feels nervous, heavily aware of the hammering of his heart against his ribs, the feeling that he's intruding suddenly awakened. When he crawls next to them, Grant is pulling the stringy bathing suit bottoms away. He and Daisy stop kissing each other for Daisy to give Lincoln this completely wrecked, lustful look, and there is no mistake about her wanting him just as much as she wants Grant. Lincoln is too distracted by Daisy completely naked and her skin flushed to register when Grant leans in to kiss him.

 

Grant kisses him the same way he's been kissing Daisy just a moment ago – tender, hungry,  _ dirty _ **_,_ ** and absolutely devoted. Daisy is suddenly there, pushing at his shoulder and in a moment Lincoln finds himself flat on his back with two of them above him. It doesn't take long until he doesn't know any more whom he is kissing back. He feels like he is going to burst, but then Daisy starts kissing down his body and all he can is hold his breath, knowing what she is going to do. He is leaning on his elbows, breathing harsh and hard when she dips her tongue in his navel. She licks further down and his muscles jump at the touch and then she's pulling his boxers away. He's trying not to breathe, not to blink as she takes him in her hand and a moment later in her mouth. The feeling is intense, absolute bliss makes him shut his eyes as his hips buck towards her. He wants to watch, though, wants to see her hollowing out her cheeks, wants to see her lips wrapped around him and her eyes closed. Behind her **,** Grant is naked and pulling at her hips. She's distracted only when he enters her, when his face contorts in what seems like agony. Daisy raises her head, her mouth opening on a moan and then takes Lincoln back in. The rhythm Grant sets is slow and Lincoln feels it every time Daisy moans against his skin. Sweat is rolling in heavy beads down his back as he holds his hand in Daisy's hair, but that's just a pretense of control. His world narrows to her mouth, to her closed eyes and lustful expression and the sounds both she and Grant are making. He is so close, fighting to keep his eyes open and look at them both and just give up and give in to the warmth of Daisy's mouth. Grant changes the rhythm then, his movements faster and harder, and it makes Daisy start to scream. Suddenly she's coming, her lips parted and her hand wrapped around Lincoln, and seeing her come apart short circuits his brain. He's coming all over her hand and and breasts as Grant fucks her hard and fast. He can hear Grant groan then, suddenly still against her. In the next moment all three of them are shaking.

 

Lincoln hasn't even come back to his senses when Daisy starts crawling over him to kiss him on the mouth.

 

“ Thank you,” she's repeating as she's tugging at his lips and slipping her tongue into her mouth.

 

“ Any time,” he says.

 

“ I want more,” she's saying breathlessly and he kisses her hard as a way of responding. A moment later she's straddling his face.

 

She loves this, he knows, loves when he holds her ass and puts his open mouth on her. Grant moves to kneel next to them and kiss her breathless as Lincoln eats her out. She's wet, so wet and open from the orgasm she just had, but it's not just that. He has never seen her like this, shaking so hard when she's touched and reduced to absolutely incoherent mess. Her back is arching as Grant drags his mouth down her throat. Lincoln catches only bits, the way her breasts bounce, the way she's fumbling with her hand to grab Grant's dick.

 

“ Stop,” she suddenly says, raising on her knees. “In me. I want you in me,” she says. She crawls down Lincoln’s body again, panting hard and screams when Lincoln enters her. 

 

“ Hard,” she says and he obeys, gritting his teeth as she keeps screaming above him. He isn't sure how long it goes on or how many times Grant kisses either of them; Lincoln isn't even aware of the things he's saying to them both. “Grant,” she suddenly calls, giving him a pleading look.

 

Ward kisses her.

 

She places a hand in the center of Lincoln chest, telling him to wait. All he knows is that he's panting and searching his face, and that part of his still cannot fathom this. But she's warm and naked and he can kiss her. He can feel Grant fumbling behind her with a tube of lubricant in his hand; and he's not sure what's going on until he rolls on a condom and presses himself close to her ass. A moment later Lincoln can  _ feel _ him sliding inside her while she's bending forward and biting Lincoln's shoulder. Grant asks her if she's okay and she's nodding, trying to move in the tight space between them. They carefully begin setting up a reciprocal rhythm of moving in and out of her body. She's kissing Lincoln and biting his neck and Grant is biting the juncture of her shoulder as they slowly move. Lincoln can feel everything, the way she's drawing shaky breaths and each of her moans, the stacatto of her heartbeat under his palm, the way Grant moves, each and every movement he makes, and the tight grip of Daisy's warm body.

 

“ More,” she demands. Grant is setting the rhythm now, going harder, drawing breaths from both her and Lincoln. It's strange, this union, the way they affect each other so thoroughly through the connection of her body. Lincoln can barely keep his eyes open, trying his best to hold on. The room is filled with sounds of their mating, panting breaths and weak, needy sounds. Daisy arches back, exposing her breasts to Lincoln, turning her face to the side so that Grant claims her lips and that's all it takes. She comes, hard and loud **,** and in the next moment Lincoln feels his world going blank.

 

He comes down from his high in the heap of warm limbs and bodies. It's Daisy who kisses him first, moving to the side of bed and snuggling tight against his chest. He hasn't even noticed Grant leaving the bed, but when he climbs back in, it's with his chest against Lincoln's back.

 

“ That was amazing,” Daisy says against his heartbeat. Lincoln can feel her face against his chest, can feel Grant's stubble ticking his shoulder; he can feel their hands wrapping around him. Suddenly his throat is tight with emotion, but Daisy pushes against his shoulder gently until he's on his back again. It's a bit strange taking turns and kissing two people, but not as strange as he had been expecting. “Thank you,” she tells him. Grant echoes the sentiment with more physical affection. 

 

“ For what?” Lincoln asks as two of them burrow into his sides.

 

“ None of this would happen if it wasn't for you,” Grant says, and Daisy adds,

 

“ Yeah. You made all of us happy.”

  
  



End file.
